


Take Three

by KKGlinka



Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KKGlinka/pseuds/KKGlinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish misses Emily and missed the obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Three

One time, Hamish came home to find Emily watching Honor practice against a reasonably sedate practice droid. At first he didn't think much of it, though it continued to please him how much more social Emily had become following the birth of their daughter and Honor's inclusion into the family. 

He didn't think anything until Honor missed a step and almost lost her head, taking a direct hit to the back of her shoulder. Fortunately, it was the prosthetic arm, so Honor only grunted and staggered back a pace. He expected her to resume attack, but she continued backing up, calling out the termination command before turning her head to glare at Emily.

Emily chuckled. It wasn't a light, amused sort of chuckle, but one that prickled at his memory, a low, quiet silky sound and he too was staring at his first wife. Her eyes were hooded as she ignored him, for the time being.

"Emily," he chided, part amused, part scandalized and part hopeful. 

He and Emily hadn't been sexually intimate in decades, not since she'd given up in frustration over any equitable compromise. She'd felt inadequate, he'd been terrified of hurting her and then there'd been that day she cursed her chair, the neural interface and how ridiculous her therapist was for believing she would be satisfied with pushing a holographic icon. To this day, she refused to even pull up the menu option, even though it only required a thought.

But now Emily was smiling faintly and he could see her mind turning behind those eyes, grown a slightly brighter green from increased blood flow in the capillaries. It didn't help that his own mind began to wander and he squelched the futile hope and tried looking at Honor instead.

He probably shouldn't have, because she was frozen in place, but having silently crept close enough that he could see her organic hand was shaking. Her respiration was elevated, the pulse at her neck, revealed by the open vee of her gi, fluttering in a familiar way. Her cheeks were flushed, which he'd attributed to her recent exertion, but now he wasn't sure. Hamish swallowed and looked back at Emily, mostly to avoid seeing the slightly frantic look in Honor's eyes.

So he was in time to catch the way Emily's eyes narrowed in calculation as she reached out, ever so casually to him, and trailed her fingers lightly over the seam of his crotch and he nearly doubled over. He heard himself gasp, part from surprise, part from the physical contact, however tenuous, but he wasn't sure what Emily's game was, yet.

He suddenly remembered the way she would dance with random guests during long ago balls, sometimes men, sometimes women, flirting and teasing and him knowing she would flitter back to him. He had to grit his teeth and couldn't ignore the way Honor was looking at him now, almost obediently following Emily's cue, but then back at her. He heard her take a shaky breath and he wondered if it was Samantha who'd told Emily how it worked with Honor.

Left to her own devices, Honor did not seek out sex, mostly due to a fundamental lack of interest, but the empathy she'd developed due to her link with Nimitz made her so very susceptible to gestalt. She loved him, both of them, and because he desired her, she responded. In some ways, it was an odd sort of arrangement even by modern standards.

Honor swallowed several times, then finally asked in a roughened voice, "Emily?"

"Is something wrong, Honor?"

Honor wasn't practiced enough at these games to avoid looking affronted, almost angry, not to mention vaguely confused by the entire situation, which was when Samantha trailed into the gym, tail waving languidly as a flag.

"Ah," said Emily, smiling now, a familiar devil in her expression, so familiar, from so long ago. "The cavalry's arrived."

Honor looked down at the tree-cat, momentarily more confused than aroused and like the strategist she was, Emily struck with now amplified mental force. The tremor that had affected only Honor's hand manifested as a shudder and Hamish saw her knees begin to buckle before she locked them on a harsh gasp.

The small sound she made next, something that might've been a word or a whimper, the way Emily's lips parted and the way her usually pale cheeks had flushed, made Hamish break into a sweat. But he wouldn't act without her direction, not now, not ever, so all he did was unbutton his jacket and break the seal on his shirt for much needed cool air. The sensation was as sharp as the prickling of nipples, the way his groin tightened and the constrained press of fabric on skin.

Honor swayed, her gaze snapping between him and Emily, then back again in evident panic. She managed a vicious glare at Samantha, who sat down and yawned at her. She looked up, licking her lips, trying to work out a question. Emily had never watched, asked to watch, or even evidenced interest beyond the occasional joke. Her breath had taken on a shallow, rasping quality, though he wasn't sure if it might be his own and he too wanted to know what Emily wanted. Which was when he met Samantha's eyes and she signed.

"What does she want, Honor?" He was rather pleased at how normal he managed to sound.

"I... I can't.... I don't...."

"Come over here," ordered Emily, holding out her working hand. "Come over here and I'll let him touch you."

Honor acquiesced so readily that Hamish realized this wasn't the first time Emily had done this, just the first time he was being included. Her bionic arm was steady against the back of the chair, hand gripping the edge to hold herself upright via default programming. Emily used one finger under Honor's chin to guide her in for a kiss that began with a sigh that turned into a needy moan, but that same hand continued to trail down her neck, tucking into the gi.

Honor might've fallen to her knees, but Emily buttressed her with her life-support chair and Hamish felt a hand tug gently at the waistband of his trousers. He curled into Honor from behind, down on one knee and when he untied her obi he could feel her shaking. One hand smoothed down her hip, brushing aside soft white canvas, the other up to cup a breast not already claimed. And Honor jerked back with a gasp, muscles far stronger than his tensing and he knew she must feel his cock pressed into the back of her thigh. 

She craned her head to look at him and her eyes were glassy, gaze focused within as she tried to process an unfamiliar, mutual arousal. The gi jacket was in the way, so he contented himself with using his hands to brush and massage, sometimes skimming Emily's hand, and ground himself against Honor's thigh for emphasis. He paused only to unfasten his trousers, sighing in relief.

Honor whimpered again, responding to an invisible, inaudible cue, surged back up to Emily. He felt her hips roll involuntarily and skimmed a hand in between her thighs, running his hand through slick curls. He needed to brace with his entire lower body at the answering jerk and he heard Honor's hand scrabble over the hard surface of Emily's chair, seeking definitive purchase.

He looked up again, wanting to know, desperately needing to know, and saw that Emily had her hand fisted in Honor's hair and when she broke off their kiss, she was gulping air. Through a gap, he saw a holographic menu, though Emily appeared to be ignoring it and he could feel his heart trying to hammer out of his chest. Or maybe it was a different emotion.

Her eyes slid to his, all slitted green and he watched a bead of perspiration forming on her forehead.

"She's close," he murmured.

"Show me," answered Emily, as Honor shook in his arms and held onto Emily's chair, her forehead pressed into the unyielding composite.


End file.
